The dim red glow of the east-wall exit sign stained the corridor floor like spilled arterial blood.
Julian Vance did not rush down the quiet hallway.
In retail loss prevention, approaching a sealed vault door required deliberate discipline. Rushing toward an unknown mechanism was the fastest way to trip a secondary snare while an accomplice emptied the till.
Julian reached into his scrub cargo pocket and pulled out a fresh, individually wrapped packet of sterile Store #04 four-by-four cotton gauze.
He peeled the paper wrapper open with his teeth. With practiced care, he wrapped two layers of sterile white cotton around the ribbed grip of the surgical tool they had retrieved from Viewbox Eight.
Under the gauze wrapping, the tool was dense and heavy. It was a vintage Number Three Bard-Parker scalpel handle, machined from solid naval brass rather than common plated steel.
The brass was tarnished with dark sulfur veins, but along the flat spine, deep engraved lettering was still crisp:
V. TALLOW, M.D. -- ROOM 414 AMPUTATION KEY
